Savior
by ScarredIncisions
Summary: Annabeth is depressed...and a bunch of other things. She's admitted to the adolescent ward of Half-Blood Hill, world-renowned mental institution. Follow her as she struggles to over-come her demons, while meeting people with equally painful problems. I might warn, the characters will be highly OOC, mainly because of the context of the story.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey guys...so I decided to come back to Fanfiction. I hope you like this story. It's actually based off of my real experiences with both my mental disorders and my numerous trips to a psychiatric ward. I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Percy Jackson, but I don't.**

**Prologue**

Have you ever thought that you were alone?

All alone in you mind, that is. No one battles any mental illness, as you do, no one has Major Depressive Disorder, no one has chronic depression, no one was highly suicidal, no one was "a danger to themselves", no one has anorexia _and_ bulimia, no one has scars littering their arms, legs, stomach, etc., no one has five different types of anxiety, including but not limited to: anxiety disorder, panic disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, separation anxiety disorder, and social anxiety disorder.

Have you ever felt so _utterly_ alone, that it soon became _painful_, even?

Yeah, I have to.

That is, until I was admitted to Half-Blood Hill, New York's world-renowned mental institution. It had a child's unit, an adolescent unit, and an adult unit.

I didn't have to go. I _shouldn't_ be going. If this morning hadn't happened, my parents wouldn't be so worried, I wouldn't be sitting tied down to an ambulance, watching the sad water droplets fall from the sky and sink down the glass, as if reflecting my feelings. I wouldn't be watching my mother silently cry next to me, I wouldn't see my father trailing in our family car to accompany me to Half-Blood Hill. All of this had only started this morning…

***Flashback***

_It was 6:45, barely the crack of dawn. I slept through my alarm, not wanting to go to school today, or at all for that matter. I hated school. Sure I got straight A's, but I didn't have any friends, and was the center for all bullying. _

_My mother had come upstairs and knocked to make sure I was awake; I never slept through my alarm. After hearing no response, she opened the door, assuming I was asleep. She would believe me, I had my head in the pillow and tried keeping my breath as even as possible._

_Suddenly, I heard her gasp and before I could even wonder what happened, she violently shook me "awake". I turned over, groaning, until I saw my mother staring at me, mouth agape. I looked down, puzzled, until I realized what she had seen and sucked in a sharp breath. Somehow, I slept so wildly that my sleeves, pant legs, and the hem of the shirt had ridden up. Scars, new or old, and fresh, deep, angry red cuts littered my body. And here was my mother, staring directly at all of them. I noticed tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, with even a couple escaping. I hung my head low, sad that I had caused pain to the one woman in my life who had shown me what the definition of compassion was and even what love was, along with my father._

_"__Frederick!" My mother screeched at the top of her lungs._

_I heard my father dash into my room. "Athena, wha—?" His question died in his throat when he noticed my arms, legs, and stomach. As expected, he began to cry along with my mother, just not as much._

_"__Why, Annabeth?" My mom asked gently._

_I had no answer. What could I possibly say? I had hurt the only two friends I had, even if they _**_were_**_ my parents. They were the only people who I could to without my social anxiety messing everything up for me. So stupid. Stupid, stupid, Annabeth._

_"__Hun, we have to take you to the hospital." My head shot up at my mom's words. No way was I going to the hospital. They _**_were not_**_ going to see the cuts, or weigh me, or silently judge me. I've done a pretty good job of avoiding the hospital for a good eighteen months, which is when the cutting spread farther than my wrists._

_"__No," I pathetically tried to beg. But when I saw my parents shake their head at the same, I knew there was no turning back or changing their minds._

_"__Okay," I agreed weakly, standing to go get ready. My parents refused to leave me, go figures, while I took a shower and got dressed. The ride to the hospital was solemn and quiet, leaving everyone to their own thoughts, until I eventually drifted off. Eventually, my mother shook me lightly, indicating that we were at the emergency room entrance._

_I steadily walked out of the car after my mother, bracing myself to what was ahead. As we walked in, the nurse at the front desk smiled at me and my mother, then asked what brought us here today. My mother simply stated and told him that she found some self-injurious scars on my body that she thought was linked to suicidal thoughts. He asked if I had any other mental illness, and my mother rattled off my five types of anxiety, along with the fact that my social anxiety has caused me to only have human contact with her and my father. But that wasn't true, I did go to school after all. I talked to my teachers, they were the only reason that I can stand school without my parents being able to assure me that I wasn't a disappointment, that I am possible of doing something worthwhile, even if I never have and never will believe it._

_Pretty soon after checking in, I heard 'Annabeth Chase' called from another nurse, this time female. The dreaded moment finally came; she asked me to step on a scale before we can continue further on into the accursed emergency room. I did and held my breath before a number came up._

_31 kilograms. Roughly 68 pounds._

_Cue sharp breath from both the nurse and my mother, both starting to pale rapidly. I sighed, that number didn't seem small to me. Call me crazy, but my goal weight was zero. I was still about 68 pounds away._

_"__Okay dear," the nurse started. "I'm going to ask you a question. I need you to answer as honestly as possible, okay?" I nodded, no use hiding anything anymore. "By any chance, do you have anorexia, or bulimia, or both?" _

_"__The third one," I whispered, holding my head down again. The nurse only nodded, leading my mother and I into a room, where we were told a psychiatrist would be with us shortly, after standard medical procedure. After an EKG, blood pressure checking, oxygen level reviews, and having me pee in a cup, my father walked in, right before the psychiatrist could. He apologized, having to take the car farther than he anticipated because of a traffic-induced crash blocking off the entire street. Right then, a doctor walked in, whom I assumed was the psychiatrist. I tried reading his name tag, but couldn't due to my dyslexia._

_"__Hi Annabeth, Mr. and Mrs. Chase, I'm Dr. Solace," he said. "I would like to ask Annabeth some questions alone, please. Just for a minute." He smiled, and my parents slowly left the room, only after my mother came back to hug me, tears in her eyes once again._

Okay Annabeth, you can do this_, I thought. He asked me the following questions:_

_Was I cutting myself? May he know where said cuts were?_

_Did I have all of my anxiety from birth?_

_Did I ever think that I had depression?_

_Did I refuse to seek out help in fear of something bad happening?_

_Was I suicidal? Did I consider taking my own life in the last two weeks?_

_Did my parents and I have a good relationship?_

_Did I do well in school?_

_Did I have friends? _

_Was I social with anyone besides teachers and my parents?_

_Have I eaten in the last two days?_

_Of course the answer was yes to all of the questions except the last three. I also told him some other things about me that I thought he would like to know. He thanked me and went to meet with my parents, leaving me for twenty minutes all alone, only after posting a security guard at the door. When my parents returned, they both had grave looks on their faces. I hated seeing them like this, I knew that they were only keeping on a brave front for me. I almost opened my mouth to ask what was going to happen to me, when my father decided to speak._

_"__Annabeth, you're going to be admitted to Half-Blood Hill. Today." And that's when I, my mother, and my father all lost it, sobbing into each other. Soon there was a gurney coming towards my room, so we quickly composed ourselves._

_I was strapped into the gurney, with my hands and feet restricted, as not to "endanger myself", and my mom climbed in with me, with my father trailing behind in the car. They said that I would be at Half-Blood Hill for _**_at least_**_ three weeks, and I was already counting down the milliseconds._

***Flashback Ended***

So that was it. I'm Annabeth Chase, I'm seventeen years old, and I'm going to Half-Blood Hill for three weeks. Here's my story…

**A/N: So I hope you guys like the prologue. I'm not quite sure if the story will be as short as the prologue, but you'll figure it out when I update, right? Anyways, I typed ****this at a size 12 Times New Roman on my Mac, so I don't think it's very long. **

**Please read, review, let me know someone read this. Thanks.**

**~ScarredIncisions**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The ambulance finally pulled up to Half-Blood Hill, after what seemed like forever. The outside was totally the unexpected; it was actually a decent looking place. The ambulance EMS workers took me out and wheeled me into the hospital, never actually releasing my hands or allowing me to come off the gurney until we reach the desk labeled 'check-in'. The lady looked up, and smiled sadly at my mother and I, noticing that I was a new patient. When I was finally let off of the gurney, the woman put a yellow bracelet on my wrist then led my parents and me into a small glass-wall room so that my parents could take care of all the legal documents and such.

After signing a few forms, a nurse came in. "Anna-Beth? Am I pronouncing your name correctly?" I told her that yes she was, then she smiled and introduced herself. "I'm Nurse Beauregard," she said sweetly, "but you can just call me Silena. To your room now, shall we?"

I smiled at her improper grammar and decided that I liked Silena. After waving good-bye to my parents, I followed Silena down a hallway, to where I assumed my room would be. On the way there, we saw seven kids sitting around a staff member who seemed to be an occupational therapist (OT). Silena pointed out each one to me, telling me their names and ages but never mentioning their diagnosis.

I made mental notes in my head. "_Percy: gorgeous kid with raven hair and sea-green eyes, seventeen like me, keeps nervously looking into a corner and muttering as if someone's talking to him. Thalia: extremely skinny, very pretty, with a double piercing in each ear, electric blue eyes, also seventeen. Nico: slightly younger, only fifteen, ace gauze bandages taped up to elbows on both arms, attractive, onyx eyes, looks extremely sad. Leo: Latino with extremely curly hair, but cut neatly, fifteen years old, not really suspicious, also good looking. Frank: half-Asian, half-Caucasian, sixteen years old, sits extremely far away from the group, looks very frightened, semi-attractive. Piper: also sixteen, so gorgeous it literally makes me hate everything about myself, kaleidoscope eyes, short brown hair that's choppy as if she gave herself a haircut, her hands are constantly rapping the tabletop while her right foot nervously taps on the ground. Jason: sixteen, blonde like me, sky blue eyes, decently good-looking, eyes keeps darting back and forth nervously, wrings hands constantly. Got it all._" I had also noticed the bracelets on all of their arms "_So it wasn't just for new people,_" I thought, "_All patients get one._"

Piper, Leo, and Thalia had green bracelets. Me, Nico, and Jason had yellow bracelets. But Percy and Frank had red bracelets, making me wonder what each bracelet stood for.

We finally arrived to my room, all the way in the back, next to the industrial barred-off window. Because of my social anxiety and how horribly I mix with new people, I was granted the mercy of receiving my own room. I noticed, as we were walking, that I was not the only one with a single room. There were name tags on every door, so it would be easy to remember who lived where. Percy had the room closest to the front desk where the on-call duty workers would be, and across the hall from him was Frank's room. Right next to Percy was Leo and Nico, who happened to be roommates, since their names were on the same door. Next to them were Thalia and Piper, who also happened to be roommates. Across from their room were two bathrooms, hence why Leo and Nico didn't have anybody across from them. Then at the very end of the hall was my room, where I noticed that Jason's was directly across from me, which happened to be a single.

Silena told me to get myself situated while she went to "fetch my parents from the dreaded conference room". She also went to retrieve my belongings from them. After what only seemed like seconds, my mother and father appeared in the room, looking distraught.

"Annabeth," my father started slowly. I could tell this was hard for him to get out. "This hospital has pretty stupid rules, I'll be straight-forward with that much." It made me and my mother crack a smile, despite the situation we were in. My father always was humorously straight-forward. "We won't be allowed to visit you until we hear that you're getting released." My smile instantly dropped. What was I supposed to do without the only people I'm comfortable enough to talk to, not open up to, but just to talk to in general. I didn't know anyone here, I wouldn't make it at least three weeks without my mother or my father.

"Hun, it'll be tough for all of us, but we'll always be calling you on daily basis, trust me," my mother said reassuringly. I nodded in appreciation to that.

Silena popped in, letting us know we only had five minutes until my parents had to leave and I had to go to the common room to 'meet the other kids on the unit', something I was dreading. It was like they didn't even remember that I had social anxiety. Sighing, I told my parents bye and vice versa. After they left, I was taken into the common room and sat as humanely far away from the others as possible. It seemed as though we were allowed free time for now until lunch.

Wait…lunch. Crap. How was I supposed to _eat_? Did they even expect me to? I wasn't even at my goal weight, much less willing to eat anything until I got there. I forced a panic attack down my throat and decided to cross that bridge when it arrived.

"Hi," a timid voice said from next to me, causing me to almost jump out of my skin. I turned and saw Frank, forgetting that he was also isolating himself from the group. "Hi." I said almost as nervously.

"I'm Frank, who are you?" He seemed pretty nervous and frightened talking to me, so I decided he couldn't be as bad as I had thought of anyone here. "Annabeth," I said, sticking out my hand for him to shake. He almost recoiled immediately, making me wonder how I had screwed something up this time.

"S—sorry," he mumbled. "Not you. I just don't let people touch me."

I convened my understanding and then decided to probe just a tad, something I usually didn't do, since I didn't talk to people. I was actually surprised that I had decided to carry on my conversation with Frank. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your diagnosis?"

He eyed me warily, then decided to answer. "PTSD, they say. I was raped multiple times when I was ten by a family friend—well not a friend anymore—and it pretty much traumatized me for life. I get flashbacks sometimes, so it makes me get pretty violent. Why I have this color." He said, holding up his red bracelet, then eyeing my yellow one. "Why are you here?"

I sighed, assuming that he was trustworthy since he was just willing to be so open with me. "MDD, chronic depression, suicide ideation, eating disorders, self-harm, and five types of anxiety, which is why I sit so far away from everyone else." I got more self-conscious as the list went on, maybe Frank thought I was a freak now.

But I immediately thought differently when I saw a look of shared pain cross his eyes. "It's okay. I'm a total hypocrite for saying this because I never believe it, but things get better." He smiled, and I smiled back.

I then remembered the bracelets, then decided to ask about the color coding. Frank told me that green meant that the person wasn't of any danger, yellow meant that the person was of danger to themselves. "_Go figures,_" I thought, looking at my yellow bracelet. But red was the worst, Frank said. It meant that you were a danger to both yourself and others. That was why Frank got a single room, he explained. Whenever he got flashbacks, apparently it wasn't pretty. When they were over he would be overtaken in a fit of rage, punching the concrete walls in his room, where he was restrained during his fits, until his knuckles bled and then if the staff didn't close the door, they would either get a concussion or need to duck because he would throw furniture in his room directly at the door, aiming for one of the employees.

"Oh," was all I could say. "How long have you been here?"

"Eight months…" he trailed. Wait, I'm sorry; did he say eight months? "Yeah I know," he said. "Too much time. It's just that I won't get better. They can't seem to find a med that actually works for me without causing too much of a certain side effect. My mom and dad have been begging to come see me, but they won't let them because of the stupid rules about visitors." He sighed. "All I ever want to do is make my parents happy. When I get out of this hellhole I'll get rich enough to buy them all the shit they deserve."

I smiled, about to respond, when something weird started to happen. Frank suddenly went completely rigid, and sweat broke out onto his face. He kept whispering _no_ under his breath, and something about how he didn't want this, he was only ten, it hurt too much, when I realized something.

He was having a flashback.

Normally this was out of my character, but I had finally found someone who I thought would be a friend. I jumped up, startling all of the other kids on the floor because of how distant I was being and suddenly decided to act out, but I didn't care.

"Silena!" I shouted, then indicated to where Frank was, totally collapsing. She muttered a quick word of thanks, and dashed over to Frank while paging security for some back-up and reinforcement to hold him when he was finished. As other nurses flooded around him, he suddenly became obscure from my line of vision. Security quickly came and hauled him into his room, where the door was quickly locked and two guards were posted outside, along with a nurse, who was not Silena, standing with a cup of pills, which I assumed was his medication for when he had 'out bursts' like this.

I closed my eyes as I could hear the sounds of furniture hitting the walls, at least he didn't split his knuckles open this time, or at least I hoped he didn't, because I couldn't hear him beating the wall.

Eventually the noise quieted down, and Silena came back to the common room to notify us that Frank was now asleep, and he's okay. I finally relaxed, decided to just look out of the window for a half an hour until the dreaded lunch hour. Not that I could see much, there was thick bullet-proof, shatter-free glass serving as a window with thick bars covering it.

Another nurse soon came in. Her name tag said "Nurse Tanaka", but like Silena, she told us to just call her Drew. Apparently she just transferred from the adult unit to the adolescent unit and spent some time telling us about herself. She was in her late twenties, went to Brown, played varsity volleyball, ran track, and was engaged to her fiancé Luke, whom she seemed to love very much, and vice versa. I decided that I liked Drew, just as I liked Silena.

But then she told us that it was time for lunch.

Of course I couldn't hate her for doing her job, but she delivered the news, so my likeness towards her wavered slightly. I sighed inwardly to myself when I saw eight trays come onto the unit, which meant that each of us _had_ to eat.

"Thalia? Annabeth?" Drew called. "You need to eat at the nurse's station, please." I saw Thalia stand up and walk over with no resistance, so I followed suit. When I sat down, careful not to be too close to her, our food was set in front of us. I inwardly groaned while Thalia groaned out-loud plainly.

Thalia just shoved her food away while everyone in the nurses station gave her a pointed look, as if to say _you have to eat sooner or later_. She just shrugged off the looks and turned to me.

"Hi," she started, "so your name is Annabeth? That's a pretty awesome name. Welcome to Half-Blood Hill, in case no one's told you. I've only been here for five days, but it's been an eternity to me. What's your diagnosis?"

For some reason, I could feel myself to begin to panic. Somehow my social anxiety didn't act up around Frank, but around Thalia I felt as though I were going to have a panic attack. It wasn't that she was a bad person, she actually seemed like a pretty nice person to befriend. I started to breathe pretty heavily and I guess she caught on because of what she said next.

"Oh crap! You have social anxiety don't you? Oh shit, so sorry, okay I won't pry," she quickly apologized, making my breathing calm down, hoping she wouldn't attempt to talk to me again. But curse my luck. "Okay, maybe you want to talk, maybe you don't. But I need an excuse to not eat; so I'll tell you my diagnosis. Anorexia." _Explains why she's so skinny_, I thought.

Actually registering what she just said, my head shot up at that, finally someone who had the same diagnosis as me! Or at least partially. I decided to just spit out what my diagnosis was, listing it exactly how I listed it to Frank. "Well they say MDD, chronic depression, suicide ideation, eating disorders, self-harm, and five types of anxiety, which is why I sit so far away from everyone else."

Thalia seemed to mull this over, before nodding. "Okay," was all she said for a while. Then: "Okay, they won't let us go until a whole hour after we eat. Scared we'll throw up, so stupid." I had to crack a smile at that. Thalia was a very expressive girl who didn't seem to care what others thought of her.

"Okay," I said, waiting for her to get to her point.

"Well," she said, "They usually argue with me for about half an hour until threatening to give me some meds that put wicked weight on me so of course then I eat. But since we're kind of in this together we eat together, mhm? Then we sit together for an hour, I won't force you to talk if you don't want, don't want you to have a panic attack, but we do this together. Deal?" And she stuck out her hand, as if to sign this deal. I shook her hand, "Deal."

So we ate, or tried to eat, as little as possible until the nurses were satisfied with the amount of food left on our plates and then talked after that, pausing periodically so I can get my nerves under control. I still wasn't used to talking to people for so long at a time. Heck, I didn't talk to people for more than a minute if I didn't have to. But Thalia seemed to understand, because she kept reminding me that we didn't have to talk if I didn't want, or 'hey! Just imagine I'm naked! Terrifyingly hilarious, right? Now speak!' I learned that Thalia and her mother didn't always have the best relationship, but since she turned fourteen, they got a lot closer, and her mom is begging to come visit her, although the hospital has these 'shit rules', as Thalia so graciously put it. Before I knew it, the hour was up and we were free to go.

We were notified to go to "group check-in". Thalia volunteered to lead the way since it was my first day. We got to a giant room with a conference table set up for nine—the eight patients here and the OT. Everyone was already sitting down, so I decided to sit right between Frank and Thalia. Frank still looked shaken up, but was definitely better than earlier.

I mouthed a 'you okay?' to him, to which he smiled and nodded. I felt slightly reassured, so I smiled back at him. That's when the OT cleared his throat, then turned to the group.

"Hi, most of you met me earlier, but there's someone here who hasn't," he smiled kindly at me. "I'm Mike, an OT from the child's unit. I just recently transferred, today actually, and would like to get to know all of you. So, why don't we all stand up, say our names, the color bracelet we have, how long we've been here, and our diagnosis." Cue eight confused looks here, and a laugh from Mike. "I know you're all thinking 'shouldn't diagnosis' be private, so says the almighty staff'? Well we all decided we might as well let you share since you lot eventually share with each other when no one's looking or listening."

Piper, the one closest to Mike's left, went first. "I'm Piper, I have a green bracelet because I couldn't hurt a fly, so don't be scared to talk to me. I've been here for four weeks. I'm here because they call me a 'kleptomaniac', although I say that I just like taking nice things." She smiled mischievously and sat back down.

Jason then stood, "I'm Jason, I have a yellow bracelet. My diagnosis is panic disorder, I get anxious really easily, and I get panic attacks a lot. I tend to dig my skin off during attacks, which is why I have the yellow bracelet. My skin tends to look like so," and he rolled up his sleeves, revealing giant gashes obviously made by human fingernails, and they looked pretty bad. "I've been here for two months." Jason hastily rolled his sleeves down and sat back in his seat, putting his head on the table and pulling his hood over his head.

Leo jumped up enthusiastically, seemingly eager to introduce himself. "Okay! So my name is Leo! I'm a pyromaniac, but I gotta admit that they're right. Almost burned down a daycare before I came here. Ha, lucky no one was in there. Yeah, so I have a green bracelet, because obviously there's no fire in a looney bin. Oh! I've been here for…lemme see…two weeks? Yup, sounds right!" He grinned and sat back down.

Next was Thalia's turn. "I'm Thalia, I'm anorexic at a whooping sixty-five pounds, I have a green bracelet for obvious reasons, and I've been here for five days." Curt and straight to the point, nice.

I sat and didn't realize that it was my turn until Mike gently called my name. _Crap_, I thought. "Uh, hi. I have Major Depressive Disorder, chronic depression, suicide ideation, anorexia and bulimia, I weigh 68 pounds, I have extreme self-harm issues, anxiety disorder, panic disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, separation anxiety disorder, and social anxiety disorder. My name is Annabeth, and I have a yellow bracelet. I just came today." Then I promptly sat down, careful not to look anyone in the eye directly.

Frank stood up and said, "Hi I'm Frank, I have a red bracelet, I've been here for eight months, I have PTSD because I was raped many times when I was ten. I get wicked flashbacks that result in violence, hence the red bracelet."

Nico stood up, eyes downcast and staring at the floor. "I'm Nico, I have chronic depression and I cut and burn myself, I have a yellow bracelet because I scratch my arms a lot and draw blood. I've been here for fourteen months and I miss my parents like hell." _Fourteen months? That's how long I can possibly be here?_

Last was Percy. He kept staring at the corner of the room and mumbling replies to whatever was there. "I can't…I mean my name is Percy," he looked into the corner again before continuing, "I have paranoid and general schizophrenia, um, I've been here for two and a half years…" He looked into the corner again while everyone looked completely amazed at how long he's survived here. "I have a red bracelet because my friends keep making me hurt myself and people. You can't see my friends, but they're here. This is the first check-in I've been to in a year. Can I go see Silena now?" Mike nodded, and Percy ran out of the room as fast as possible.

"Okay, I don't try to take up more than half an hour of your time, so quick check-ins. Rate your day from one to ten, one being the lowest, please."

Basically the scores went like: Piper—8, Jason—5, Leo—8, Thalia—5, me—0, Frank—2, and Nico—negative 3. Mike thanked us, then let us go.

We didn't have anything to do until dinner, so for the kids who've been here for at least a week and didn't have a red bracelet (which was everyone but me, Thalia, Percy, and Frank), they were invited to go outside. 'Outside' meaning a cage attached to the unit with electrical fencing going all the way up to the roof to prevent anyone from leaving.

Piper, Jason, and Leo all went out, but Nico decided to go sleep until dinner, which was about four hours away. Thalia seconded his notion, and decided to also go to bed. Frank asked for his "coping box" from an on-duty nurse and then asked if I wanted to join him. I said yes, scared to be rude and decline his offer. He got it, some paper, and a pen. Then we sat at a table. and he explained to me what his coping box was. Apparently, it was originally an idea for kids who struggled with self-harm ('Maybe it'll help you!' he said), but he used it as ideas to prevent panics and flashbacks. He let me read what he had so far:

_Call mom._

_Call dad._

_Write out what he was thinking, not having to be about a flashback._

_Draw a picture._

_Call my sister._

_Talk to Silena._

_Talk to Drew._

_Talk to one of the psychiatrists._

He said I can add what I wanted to the box, if I wanted, and I continued the list:

_9\. Draw on myself instead of cutting._

I was basically done at the one point, until Frank took the pen and wrote something else.

_10\. Talk to Frank._

That made me smile, and I said thank you, but I don't think that 'thank you' was enough to express my gratitude, so I tried searching for more words. He seemed to understand what I was trying to get at because he laughed and said you're welcome, then frowned when he looked at the clock. Three and a half hours until dinner. He scowled, then tried to apologize for having an appointment with the psychiatrist because of his flashbacks earlier today. I said it was fine, then decided to go back to my room, but was stopped when Percy spoke to me.

"Excuse me? Annabeth?" I turned around slightly. "Sorry, I know you have social anxiety, but I want to say hi. My friend said I should. Hi." And with that, he turned on his heel hesitantly.

"Hi," I whispered, making him freeze, then run towards the nurse station as fast as possible. He grabbed a pen and stuck it straight in his arm, dragging it down his flesh, tearing it on the way. I screamed, "Percy!" That captured Drew's attention, who seemed to be getting someone's medication, but immediately dropped what she was doing and snatched the pen out of Percy's hand to prevent him from hurting himself anymore. He started crying, actually _crying_, then apologizing to Drew over and over again while he was being dragged to his room.

It was a whole twenty minutes before Percy and Drew came back out, going towards the nurse's station for his medication. Silena tried handing him the cup, but Percy declined. Silena sighed, as if this was a regular routine.

"Percy, you can't see your parents if you don't get better. The medication will help, I promise. Please," she pleaded. Percy just shook his head. "My friends say no." Silena looked sadly at him, then said okay, he's free to go.

Percy walked over to me, being courteous and careful enough not to sit to close to me.

"I would like to talk to you. If you don't want to, it's fine though."

I don't know why, but I motioned for him to continue.

**AN: So I guess my chapters will be decent length. This is eight pages at a size 12 font. Idk if you guys think it's long or not, but good enough?**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Percy looked down, seemingly contemplating where to start.

"So I have some friends. Except no one can see them except me. They make me do bad things. A lot." He then started to pick at the gauze, trying to lift it off his arm, where the gashes he just made with the pen were. "They don't have names, and I can't see their faces, but they're still there." He looked at me, as if to challenge any denial. I didn't say anything, so he continued. "They're pretty mean, actually. They tried to get me to kill my parents before I got here, which was when I was fifteen." My eyes widened, but he kept talking. "Yeah, I have an older brother named Tyson, he was twenty when this happened, but he's twenty-two now. He's pretty awesome. Came right up behind me and wrestled the knife out of my hands." He paused. "My parents and my family are pretty cool." He then looked me in the eyes, "Actually, you're the first patient I've talked to in a year. Huh, my friends must like you." He finally got the gauze off, and started to stick his nail into the cuts. I tried to get him to stop, but he just shook me off. "They told me to stick the pen in my arm, they said that you didn't want to say hi to me but I bothered you so yeah that was my punishment, I guess."

I realized his story was over, so I asked a tentative question. "If your friends make you hurt yourself and your family, are they really friends?"

He seemed to mull this over before actually answering. "They're not, but they don't like hearing that they aren't, so I have to keep them happy so they don't make me hurt myself. You're my actual, true-life friend, right? I've never actually had a friend that weren't the things only I could see. The other friends I have keep saying that I don't need to have friends besides them, but I don't think so; so will you be my friend?"

I didn't even have to think for more than a second before I said yes, making Percy smile. But then I asked, "Why don't you take your medication?" And he frowned before answering, "My friends tell me not to. They say it'll make me worse and I won't get discharged any time soon. They also say that something bad'll happen to my brother and parents."

I chose my words carefully, wary of the fact that anything I say could set off the things he saw and heard. "Well have you ever tried it at least once? For yourself? Maybe they're wrong, Percy. You never know. Maybe it works, and it'll get you out of here to see your family again?"

Percy looked at me sadly at first, then winced. "Sorry, they're angry now. I might consider it." Then he winced again, even harder this time.

"Anyways," he said, "tell me about yourself. You know about me, tell me about you. What about your parents and stuff, mhm?"

I smiled at him and began. "Well my parents are pretty cool, if I do say so myself. I don't have any siblings, but I wish I did. Umm…I go to Goode High School and I get straight A's." I felt a little self-conscious of what I was saying, wondering if the part about my grades made me sound conceited or not.

Apparently they didn't, because what Percy said was unexpected. "Ah, nice. Wise girl. I went to Goode too, before I got admitted here, that is." I was shocked, my mouth forming an 'o'. "But I usually only pulled off C's and B's, and a couple of A's if I got extra lucky and my friends were being extra nice to me."

So that's how we spent the next couple of hours, talking and sharing life stories. Percy's family seemed to really be supportive and loving, despite Percy's "issues". I learned that him and his mother (Sally, another name to remember) had an ongoing joke about blue food, ever since he was about four, because his dad (Poseidon, got to remember that too) said that there's no such thing as blue food, and they've been proving him wrong ever since. His brother Tyson was in his first year towards his masters degree in mechanical engineering at Princeton, choosing to move out of state but staying close enough to see Percy occasionally (of course before he got here, 'this no visitors rule is poop', as Percy so eloquently put it). Every summer his parents used to take him to Montauk beach, right on Long Island, and stay in one of the cabins there for a week every month before school started. They'd go at the end of June, middle of July, and then in the middle of August. His father was the one to teach him how to fish and swim, and overall, him and his parents had an amazing relationship. I told him about a time when I was five and I went bowling with my parents and got my finger stuck in a ball, then ran around until I slipped right onto the lane, where the ball finally came off and made a strike. He almost died with laughter, and even fell right out of his seat.

He told me a bunch of equally embarrassing stories about himself and vice versa, until Silena and Drew went around letting us know that we had half an hour until dinner. I didn't even think I cared so much; I had never laughed as much in my life as Percy made me in those few three hours. Well, I didn't care until I registered what I had heard: _dinner in half an hour_. I frowned, and Percy noticed. "What's wrong?" He actually seemed concerned. He was the first person besides my parents to seemed concerned, and that made me smile. "Food," I simply said, and he understood what I meant, because he told me that it'll be okay some day, and, I quote, "You're beautiful anyways," followed by a wink from his gorgeous sea green eyes. I didn't know what to say, so I just kind of jumped on him and hugged him. He was surprised, but hugged me back. That's when the dinner trays rolled up to the floor, and I decided that I might as well eat now and get it over with.

I told Percy that I'm going to eat now, after I got Thalia so we could eat together, and then turned to go, but he called me back. "Annabeth?"

"Yeah?" I turned to face him, noticing his wince.

"I really should thank you, y'know?" I raised my eyebrow in confusion. He looked nervous. "That was the longest my friends haven't bothered me. They're angry now, but it was worth it. I haven't laughed that much, or laughed at all for that matter, in a very long time."

He winced again, but he smiled. I smiled back, although it was bittersweet. I was happy to make him laugh so much in so long, but then I was also sad because I had made those things in his head angry at him.

When I got Thalia from her room, she was out of it, seeing as she had just woken up from a nap. We ate in silence, unlike at lunchtime earlier. Thalia decided to go back to sleep, so she asked Drew if she could spend the hour in her room, and Drew followed her. That left Silena at the nurses' station, along with some other nurses coming in for their evening shifts. I just sat to myself, thinking of Percy and hoping he was okay. I saw him sitting at a table all by himself, whispering to the air and covering his ears, not really focusing on his plate.

I turned away and hastily wiped away the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I looked down at the table, and sensed the weight of another person next to me.

"Hi," Silena said. "Anything wrong?"

"Percy," I mumbled. "Everything seemed fine, but then when I left to get Thalia…ugh, I don't know what happened." I looked at her desperately, with wide gray eyes pleading for help.

Silena smiled at me. "Well, you know what I think?" She didn't give me an opportunity to answer. "I think that you still did Percy an amazing favor. I've been working here for about three years, so I've been here was Percy was first admitted. I've seen him speak, I've seen rare moments when he's smiled—only slightly—and I've never, _ever_ heard him laugh. In two and a half whole years. Never heard him laugh. At all. So maybe he's being bothered right now by the things in his head, but he's had a difficult life. It was good to see him happy for once. So stop being so hard on yourself, Annabeth. Be proud. You didn't mess up, you did something right. Honestly, you're a really talented, smart, beautiful girl with a lot of potential in you."

I started to say thank you, but Silena cut me off. "I'm being completely honest, Annabeth. You even got him to open up, even if a little. Never has he done that before, he's always just repeated 'he tried to kill his parents and his brother wrestled with him to get the knife and then he ended up here'. And about the medication piece, oh God. I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear why he won't take it. He just always refuses it and doesn't say why he does. I honestly have to consider asking the CEO of this place to let you be a psychiatrist." We both let out a light-hearted laugh at that. That's when I actually realized how gorgeous Silena was and all the little details about her. If I thought Piper was gorgeous, Silena was a living goddess dipped in gold. She had straight blonde hair that literally _never_ came out of place, and she's had it down all day. If I tried to walk out of my house like that, I would need to put about three bottles of moose in my hair to keep my dull curls in place just for _half_ of the day. She also had blue eyes; they weren't a gorgeous electric blue like Thalia's, but they were still as pretty as the waters of the Caribbean. And her figure was to literally keel over and die for. She had curves in all the right places, topped with a perfect hour-glass figure, compared to my gross straight 'stick-like' figure. I noticed a silver band on her left ring finger, although I'm pretty sure _rock_ would be a better description. That thing had to be at least 22 karats, or more.

I think Silena saw me gaping at her ring, because she laughed fondly at me and said. "Yup, my fiancé is something else. He owns his own mechanics shop—he loves working with his hands. So since he own his own shop, he doesn't really have to worry about any type of financial issues. Almost had a heart attack when I saw him produce a twenty four karat ring made out of pure white gold. So next month I'll become Mrs. Beckendorf." She laughed, pure love shining in her eyes. I asked her more about her fiancé, and I learned that they were only two years apart, they met when Silena was only twelve at a summer camp. They had started dating when Silena was sixteen, and they both had gone to NYU. Charles Beckendorf—just Beckendorf to all of his friends, or Charlie, as only Silena was able to call him—was a black man originally from Barbados that was very hard-working, kind, and showered Silena 'with more love than she deserved'. It made me happy to see Silena this happy, she found someone who made her so utterly happy that even after twelve years of dating she still got butterflies around him, as cliche as it sounds.

It made me slightly hopeful that one day—even if no one actually fell in love with me (because, really, who would?)—I could find happiness and come out of this depressing black hole that I've been sinking further and further into.

Silena then told me that my hour was up, and thanked me for having a conversation with her, because she knew how much effort it must've taken me to talk to someone besides my parents. Then, once again, she thanked me for 'getting Percy to open up'. She then told me I could go to the common room with the others and watch _Pitch Perfect_ if I wanted to, since every night after dinner the patients got to watch a movie and let me know that she was working a 36 hour shift, so if I needed anything I could get to her. I decided to go, because _Pitch Perfect_ was a movie I watched every Friday night with my parents, maybe because they felt bad about me not having friends, but it was still fun.

I went to the couch farthest from where I saw people sitting, and as I expected, Frank and Percy were sitting on the couch, as far away from each other as possible. As I got closer, I noticed, to my shock, that they were discussing something with each other. It made me smile to see them interacting with other people, so I tried my best not to make much noise and stop them from talking. Frank must have noticed me though, because he said something else to Percy, then pointed me. Percy turned around, then they both smiled and waved me over to where they were.

"Hey," I said, and raised my eyebrow at both of them, smiling slightly. I seemed to be smiling a lot more since I got here, which wasn't even a full twenty-four hours yet.

I liked this change though.

I asked what was so funny and that seemed to bring on whole new fits of laughter, because both Percy and Frank keeled over and started to crack up. Finally, Frank looked up while Percy pretended to wipe tears out of his eyes.

"It's honestly not very funny at all," Frank said, but he was still grinning like the Cheshire cat. "So you know how me, Percy, and Nico have been here the longest, right?" I nodded, and Frank continued. "Well they show _Pitch Perfect_ at the end of every month, so we know the words, stage directions, and everything by heart. So like immature teenage boys, we decided to mock every line in a high-pitched voice."

I snorted in the most unlady-like way imaginable, and rolled my eyes at the two of them. "Anyways," I asked, "how did you guys even end up talking to each other?"

"Well…" Percy started. "I actually don't know. We both talked to you today, first person Frank's talked to since he's been here and first person I've talked to in a year. And we've both talked to you today, and you're a cool person, so obviously you had to talk to cool people, such as myself," he winked and gestured to himself, making me laugh, "so we thought we may as well talk to each other, and it's been working out well. Instant friendship, boom. So yeah, I guess we have to say thank you to Annabeth." He smirked at Frank.

"_Thank you Anna-Beth_," they both said in unified sing song-y voices, and emphasizing my name, as if they were elementary school children, and for some reason that made me absolutely hysterical with laughter.

Frank hugged my shoulder in a brotherly manner and said, this time completely serious, "No really though, Annabeth; thank you." He smiled at me, so wide that I thought his face would stretch too far apart.

"More like I should be thanking you two," I said. "I honestly have never held a conversation with anyone besides my parents until I got here. And I haven't laughed in…God, I don't even know how long it's been since I've laughed. And _smiling_, none of those have been real since I was like twelve. Sad but true."

Percy and Frank both smiled at me, and I hugged them both, not even caring that they were both red bracelets and could go after me at any second. We returned our attention to the movie until it was over. About half-way through, I started to doze off, and I vaguely remembered falling asleep restlessly on Percy's shoulder.

About three hours later, it was lights out. Percy gently shook me awake and told me that I had to go to bed now, and explained that lights out was so early because of 'sleeping problems that it seemed that most patients here possessed'.

"The movie ended a while ago, but I didn't want to wake you up. You can go sleep more comfortably in a bed now." He bid me goodnight and then went into his room.

I went back to my room, and tried going back to sleep for three hours, but something felt wrong. Now I realized what it was. My parents weren't here, and this is where the separation anxiety started to kick in. I felt like I was suffocating, and it was suddenly becoming harder for me to breathe. I started to hyperventilate, and spots danced in my vision. I knew what was happening; I was having a panic attack. I started to sweat and as the attack went on, my hyperventilating got louder and I couldn't think or see straight. Luckily, a night monitor was walking by my room, and I thank God on all things holy that he was passing by to help me. He ran in and helped me out of the room and to the nurses station, where I saw Silena and some other nurse whose face or name tag I couldn't make out.

Silena started to rub soothing circles into my back, encouraging whispers going into my ear until I calmed down.

She disappeared for a few minutes, then came back with a cup with three tan pills in it and a full cup of water. "You weren't supposed to get this until you met the psychiatrist tomorrow, but I think now is an exception. It's Citalopram, or Celexa for short. It has two purposes—it's an anti-depressant and it should help a great deal with your anxiety. But for right now, you can call your parents, if it helps. It's almost one, but I doubt that they'd mind."

I nodded, and then took the pills and downed the water in one go. I picked up the phone, noticing that I was still trembling from my episode earlier. I dialed the number that I had become so familiar with, and waited until I heard my mother's tired voice on the other side of the line.

**Hello? Chase Residence, may I ask who's calling?**

_Mom? It's Annabeth._

**Oh hey, sweetheart! I didn't expect it to be you this late at night! What's up?**

_Umm…hold on. _I gave Silena the phone for her to explain what had happened.

_Hi Mrs. Chase…this is Silena, one of the nurses here. Oh I'm fine, thanks for asking. Annabeth is okay, but it seemed that her separation anxiety started to kick in when she had to go to bed… Mhm? Oh, three hours ago…Yes, she's fine now. She had a panic attack, so we started the Celexa earlier than we discussed earlier. _Silena gave a light-hearted laugh. _No, it was absolutely no problem; that's my job here. Okay, I'll give her back the phone._

Silena handed me back the phone, and I finished the conversation with my mother.

_Mom?_

**Annabeth? I'm glad you're okay now, I know it's hard. Your father said to tell you he loves you, and I love you so much too. I'll call you later on, okay?**

_Okay mom. Bye, tell dad I love him. I love you too._

**Bye honey. Stay strong. **I could hear the smile in my mother's voice, and I felt better.

The line went dead, and then Silena led me back to my room. She turned to leave just as I said, "Silena?" She smiled and replied, "Yes?"

"Would you mind…um, staying with me until I fall asleep? My mom usually does and I go to sleep pretty quickly and—"

"Of course," Silena said, and sat on the chair next to my bed. Just like my mother did, Silena started to stroke my messy curls until I fell into a peaceful sleep.

**A/N: SEMI-LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, yeah this chapter was not my best. It's only six and a half pages at a size 12 Times New Roman font. **

**I really should apologize for the late chapter, it's been two weeks. But the thing is, I got out of school way earlier than everyone else (I go to Milton Academy, one of the most prestigious private schools in the world, number 19 in fact), because my school is just cool like that. **

**Anyways, if you're feeling kind and dropping a review, tell me how your Christmas went! Mine was amazing, I got my mom one of those heavy-duty kitchen griddles that she's been wanting for like two years. She almost had a heart attack, because apparently me and my sisters (I have two; one is 12 and one is 6) got her one that's "too-fancy". Or if you don't celebrate Christmas, tell me how your break is going! My best friend is Jewish, so I've learned to start saying "happy holidays" instead of just "Merry Christmas", ha. **

**Also, I hope you guys aren't too upset about grammatical mistakes, I try my best, because nothing drives me more up the wall than incorrect grammar. Sometimes I just type way too quickly and don't re-read carefully to catch things. I'm taking a mandatory grammar and writing class, all freshmen at my school have to. It's helping a lot, haha. I even read a different fanfic today and was like, "Woah! There's a megablunder in this!" I'm such a nerd.**

**Until next time, which is hopefully later this week or next Tuesday, back to my every week schedule!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Here's the part I dreaded since the moment I stepped foot into Half-Blood Hill. Since I had my little 'episode' last night, I was being forced to see the psychiatrist.

I walked down the hall alone, and stopped when I saw a bronze plaque labeled "_Dr. Brunner_" over a chestnut-wood door. I knocked gently, and a voice from the other side said, "Come in."

I walked in, trying to be as quiet as possible. Despite me willing to talk to some people yesterday, this was an adult, my psychiatrist, as a matter of fact. "Hi, Dr. Brunner?" He smiled kindly at me, and I could tell that it was genuine.

"You must be Annabeth, right? Well all of the patients here call me Chiron, so you may as well. Please, take a seat." He gestured to a worn down-but comfy-looking—black leather couch. I sat in the right corner, or tried to, and Chiron began to speak. "I'll skip the entire process of reading your diagnosis', because you're well aware of them already. So why not tell me about your episode last night?"

I started fidgeting nervously with my hands, automatically going mute. I glanced at Chiron, then cast my eyes towards the floor.

"Okay," he said. "Why do you think the attack happened?" He sounded patient, as if he didn't get impatient with people and allowed them all the time they wanted to open up. So that meant I could be here all day.

"Well, I don't usually go to bed without either my mother or my father. Actually, I don't go anywhere without my parents. I've never even taken myself to school, one of them always brings me there. Um, I can't go to sleep if my mom isn't there. Last night I couldn't go to bed at lights out. So that's what happened. I missed my parents. Still do."

Chiron nodded, warm brown eyes trained attentively on me. "Okay, so you think it was just the cause of you missing your parents or your separation anxiety was coming into play?"

"Both," I answered automatically.

"Okay," Chiron said. "Thank you for cooperating. You can go now." My head snapped up, the first time my eyes left the floor since our session started. I had only been here for about fifteen minutes, but the session was over?

I turned to leave, only to be stopped by him, "Annabeth?"

I turned, and he took his glasses off, his brown eyes piercing my gray ones. "I'm looking forward to our next session, I can tell you have a lot of insight. Don't sell yourself short."

I nodded then quickly left the room. Going back to the common room, I noticed that everyone was getting ready for group check-in. I had absolutely no idea what we were supposed to do or what was supposed to happen, all I knew was that all eight of us would attend it, and it took place everyday after breakfast. I had eaten my breakfast about two hours earlier so I was able to sit for an hour afterwards and then see Chiron.

As I got closer, I noticed that we got a new girl. She was African-American, petite, pretty in a conservative way—if that made any sense, had hazel eyes, and had long golden hair that was curlier than mine, as if she were bi-racial. She was talking to Piper, or at least Piper was talking to her. Piper noticed me and waved me over to where she was sitting. Although hesitant, I obliged and sat down next to her, giving her and the new girl a small wave.

"Annabeth, this is Hazel," Piper said, and I noticed the green bracelet on Hazel's arm. "Hazel, Annabeth." Hazel stuck her hand out, and I raised my eyebrow at her in question.

She laughed, then said, "My name and my eyes, right? Yeah my mom was supposed to name me some extravagant thing that I can't even pronounce, but apparently she took one look at my eyes and decided to name me Hazel."

I nodded, then shook her hand. "Well nice to meet you, Hazel." I eyed her green bracelet, wondering what she was here for. She followed my gaze, then noticed I was looking at her bracelet.

"Oh," she said, "yeah, I'm not really harmful. I have bipolar disorder." I formed an "O" with my mouth, then nodded my head.

Piper shook both of our arms and motioned for us to look at the clock. It was about time for group check-in, and everyone was slowly gathering around Drew, Silena, and another nurse whose name I didn't know. We sat down, and I waved to Frank and Percy, who were on opposite sides of the circle. They both smiled and waved back.

"Okay," the nameless nurse said. "The regular routine; state your name, age, and your goal for the day. For the new patients here, I'll explain the 'goal of the day' part. It can be as big as pouring your heart and soul out to the psychiatrist, or as simple as attending any group session or activity."

Nico was first to go. "I'm Nico, I'm fifteen years old, and my goal for the day is to actually have a full conversation on the phone with my parents."

And so it went on, in the circle.

"I'm Frank, I'm sixteen, and I'm going to try not to loathe any appointments, if I have any today."

"I'm Leo, I'm fifteen, and I'm gonna try not to set anything on fire today. Although if you ask me, the matches should be contained better." He got a heated glare from Silena here.

"Piper, sixteen, and I'm not going to take anything today." All three nurses raised an eyebrow at that, making Piper re-phrase. "Fine, I'll _try_."

"I'm Hazel, I'm sixteen, and I guess I'll try not to swear too much."

"I'm Annabeth, I'm seventeen, and I guess to participate in a session."

"I'm Jason, I'm sixteen, and my goal for the day is to try not to have a panic attack."

"I'm Thalia, I'm seventeen, and my goal is to not swear at anyone when I get weighed." I honestly could have laughed at Thalia. Not out of disrespect, but because she looked so badass when she said it; arms and legs crossed, serious expression, leather jacket and all.

Last but not least was Percy. "I'm Percy and I'm seventeen…my goal for today is to maybe take my medication…_Maybe_…Silena, stop smiling. I said _maybe_." Silena's smirk immediately went away, but the twinkle in her eyes never disappeared. Everyone was looking at each other in shock; Percy hasn't ever taken his medication since he's been here.

The nurse (whose name tag was finally revealed; her name was Gwen) moved towards the center of the circle, and then reminded us that we had an hour until 'recreation'. We were then dismissed, and Piper grabbed Hazel's hand to go introduce her to people. I noticed Silena going around to a couple of patients before finally sitting down next to me.

"I'm leaving now, I'll be back tomorrow. I know you'll be okay," she said. "Annabeth, look at me." I raised my eyes up from the floor, and she continued. "I really cannot tell you how thankful everyone that works here is for you. He's actually _considering_ the medication." She hugged me then got up to leave.

Seeing as I still had a decent fifty-five minutes until recreation—whatever _that_ was—I would go take a shower. I retrieved my things and went into a bathroom.

Right before stepping into the shower, I examined my body in the mirror. It wasn't because I thought I was _beautiful_ or even _moderately attractive_, it was because this was a regular routine for me. Criticizing every inch of myself.

I stared at all of the scars on my body, hating all of it. They were everywhere; it seemed as though there was barely any skin left uncovered. As much as I hated seeing all of these angry marks, I never seemed to be able to stop. Whenever I was stressed, overwhelmed, depressed—anything, I did it. It was like razors possessed some unknown power over all of my problems. Whenever I glided the blade over my skin, and I saw pools of red liquid spill over the surface, everything was temporarily forgotten. My fingers ghosted over the new scars on my stomach, arms, and legs, red and puffy. It was as if someone had dotted wash-out red paint on my skin. It was as if the lines were drawn by something as simple as a Sharpie. It was intriguing, yet hideous. It was funny; my pale white skin against the angry red. _The color of innocence against the color of sin_. It was absolutely revolting.

My attention turned from the scars to the rest of my body. My ribcage was visible if I lifted my arms up, and to many I might just be considered sick, but it was re-assuring to see that I was nearing my goal. My nails were way too delicate from a lack of keratin, so they kept breaking and stripping, causing me to paint them constantly. My height wasn't very impressive; I was only about 5'5". I was way too pale for my own good, as if I spent years away from the sun. My eyes weren't a bright, beautiful grayish-silver like most gray-eyed people possessed; they were a dull, dangerous hue. They were like a storm; a deadly, bitter, angry storm. Then there were my cheeks, which always seemed too plump, no matter how much weight I desperately tried to lose. My eyelashes and eyebrows were a medium shade of brown, which didn't match my blonde hair at all. Then, finally, I attacked my hair. My hair wasn't full of luscious curls that made me the center of envy (not that it was my intention, but I'm sure you get the point), my hair was the weirdest shade of blonde possible, and no matter how much effort I spent on my curls, trying to tame them, they somehow always got messy and tangled up again.

I finally sighed in defeat, then stepped into the steaming water.

When I was done, I got dressed in a white and green three-quarter sleeve shirt, a pair of gray Goode sweatpants, and my Converse. Deciding to leave my wet hair down, I gave myself a once-over in the mirror, and immediately cursed. The shirt sleeves couldn't reach my hands, so they would show a good portion of my wrists. Which meant that people could see my cuts, most of which were fresh. But I realized that as I was going through my clothes bag, the only actual long sleeves were my pajamas.

I sighed and walked through the door, self-consciously trying to cover my arms with my hands. I went to the nurses station and asked if I could have gauze to cover my arms with. As quickly as I could after getting my arms wrapped, I walked into the common room and sat down in a couch. I looked at the clock and noticed that there was only about fifteen minutes left until whatever this recreation thing was. The only other people in the common room with me were Thalia and Nico, who were talking to each other quietly, and both waved when they noticed me. Everyone else was either in their room or taking a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself in a room with Nico, Jason, and a counselor, whose name was Nia. Nia welcomed all of us, and thanked us for coming (as if we had a choice). She handed us each a piece of lined paper and a pencil.

On the paper, she wanted us to write about a time when we were at our lowest point in our lives, and how we dealt with it. Jason started immediately, Nico scowled at the paper and then started, and I took that as my cue to then start.

I thought for a little bit, then started writing, although I didn't have much to say, until Nia told us that time was up.

Jason was asked to go first, and he recited what his paper said, "I guess it was my first panic attack. I was twelve, I think, and I was at school. If I'm remembering this right, it was because there was some stupid fourteen year olds that started bugging me. Since then my anxiety was sky-rocketing through the roof, and then it soon turned into my panic disorder. So yeah, I guess I turned to self-harm to deal with it. That's why my arms look so fucked up."

Nico started speaking immediately, reading extremely fast. "It was the year that my sister died. Her name was Bianca and she was four years older than me. She was actually my age when she died, so I was eleven. Her school was on a trip to Rome and the plane crashed in the Mediterranean. I got depressed, never got better. Then one day, about half a year later, I accidentally burned my arm on a heater, and the burning myself started from there. I started cutting too about two years ago. So that's basically it."

I read next, "I never really had a 'lowest moment' in my life. My life is fine, my parents are fine, I guess I was just born with unfortunate disorders, right?"

Nia then said okay, and asked us why we believed that we were placed together in this specific group. All three of us looked puzzled, then turned to look at her, curiosity evident in our eyes.

"If you remember yesterday, everyone was with Mike, the OT, and said their diagnosis'. It turns out that all of you have self-harms issues," cue glares from everyone in the room, but Nia seemed immune to it and continued on with what she was saying, "and the staff thought it best to put you guys together and maybe you could even help each other."

We all nodded, and then Nia told us that 'we had already shared enough angst for the day'. So for the remaining twenty minutes, we were free to talk to each other about anything we wanted. Unlike Nia expected, we started actually talking about our diagnosis' and how they affected us when we weren't in this hospital.

Much to my surprise, we were all pretty 'friendless', for lack of a better word. Nico didn't necessarily care for people who weren't either his family or in this hospital, Jason just didn't really think he needed friends; he thought that they were linked to panic attacks. And I was just friendless since birth because of how horrible my social anxiety was.

Five minutes before it was time to rotate, Gwen came through the door and asked to see me. When in the hallway, I asked what the problem was, and the two words that Gwen said made my heart drop.

"It's Percy."

**A/N: GOSH I AM SUCH A HORRIBLE PERSON! THREE WEEKS?! Well I can't entirely apologize, school is crazy and hectic and annoying. I have exams next Monday through Friday, so I honestly don't know when I'll update. I guess it's just when I can, guys. I literally skipped my study hall today to write this chapter for you guys. Yeah it's short, and yeah the ending was suckish, but I had to leave you guys with SOMETHING. Please don't hate me haha.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Five minutes before it was time to rotate, Gwen came through the door and asked to see me. When in the hallway, I asked what the problem was, and the two words that Gwen said made my heart drop.

"It's Percy."

I stuttered, "Wh—what about Percy?"

Gwen eyed me carefully, "He had another episode. When security got here, he clawed one of their faces and it wasn't pretty. This is so against hospital policy, but all of the staff here thinks that this is a special case." She stopped, making me freeze in my tracks. Her cobalt eyes burned into mine, "Please, _please_ talk to him. Just sit outside his door, make him talk. He started to hyperventilate and completely shut down when he got locked in his room."

My face became emotionless, my lips forming into a straight line. "Take me to him." I said monotonously.

We went to his room, and I could see what Gwen was talking about. There was a security guard leaving the unit, and his face looked as if he had just crawled from a war zone. There were three deep gashes on his face, still open and bleeding. That meant that this was bad.

I went to his door and slid down the wall until I was sitting on the ground, then gently called, "Percy?"

He weakly banged the door once in response, as if telling everyone outside to just leave him alone. He then slid down the door, mirroring my position exactly. The silence in the air was so thick that it could be cut with a knife, but it was soon broken by the sound of Percy's soft crying.

"I want to die, Annabeth," he said. "I just want to die. I can't get away from the things I see and hear. I can't tell what's real or what's fake anymore. Actually, I don't even _know _what's real and what's fake anymore. Everything is wrong. They're mad. My head hurts, Annabeth. I don't know what I did this time. God, I just want to die. My head is on fire." That 'soft crying' soon turned into heart-wrenching sobs that made my heart break.

"The meds," I said. "They might work. They'll make those things go away, Percy. I think your headache will go away."

He sighed. "What is it called? The meds, I mean."

I tried remembering what Gwen had told me on the way over here. "It's Risperidone. It treats schizophrenia, Percy. Your dose is 20 mg. That's four pills."

He was silent for a while, so I thought that he had just given up on the medication, which made my heart stop. Finally I heard him drag himself off the ground, and then the door was cracked open slightly.

"I'll take _two_. That's it. No more." His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot.

I didn't feel like arguing that he was only taking 10 mg, so I just allowed Gwen to bring over only two pills in the cup. He looked down at the pills tentatively, then closed his eyes and took them. He didn't say anything, didn't move at all either. He just shook his head, went back into his room, and closed the door.

"Don't leave," he whispered through the wood.

"I wouldn't," I whispered back.

"Tell me anything. Recite anything you know, any story you have. Just don't make me think," Percy said.

I thought, and then decided I would share my favorite spoken-word poem that I had recited a long time ago. It was actually really depressing, but also very inspirational. I couldn't help but tear up whenever I listened to it. "Okay then," I said, "here it goes. It's called 'To This Day' by Shane Koyczan."

I took a deep breath then began. The poem took seven minutes to recite, but I loved it so much that it didn't even bother me. There were powerful parts in there that made my voice rise in power and volume; the poem was absolutely beautiful.

Percy was silently listening until I was finished, then said, "Wow."

I laughed lightly, "I know. I love it."

You know," he said, "one of those lines were for you." He reopened the door, and we were then sitting face-to-face.

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrow, to which he just nodded in response.

"_And if you can't see anything beautiful about yourself, get a better mirror, look a little closer, stare a little longer. Because there's something inside you that made you keep trying despite everyone who told you to quit._" His green eyes burned into mine.

I blushed and averted my eyes. Percy put his fingers under my chin and made me raise my head up to look him in the eyes again. I swallowed before speaking.

"_But our lives will only ever always continue to be a balancing act that has less to do with pain, and more to do with beauty_." The last line of the poem. The one that resonated most within me.

Percy smiled, "Okay, that's enough philosophy for me today. What group do we have next?"

I laughed and then we both got up. Percy looked down at me and then raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He just shook his head and said, "Your height makes me feel so much better about myself. I mean you're what? Five-six? Five-seven? Compare it to a guy like me, who's six-five." He swung his arm around my shoulder, messing my hair up in the process.

I glared at him playfully, then swatted his hand away. I noticed that we both had different groups, then departed. He and Frank had recreation, which I had just come from with Jason and Nico, and I had my next group in the room where Thalia, Leo, Piper, and Hazel had just come out of. I read what the name of the group was on the door and almost screamed.

_Drugs and Sex Ed_ was eloquently posted on the door. I was absolutely mortified; I had taken these classes in both sixth and ninth grade and to say the least, I'm—to this day—scarred from the haunting memories. Thankfully, that went surprisingly fast, as did my other two groups.

Now we were in the second to last group. Both of these were for all nine of us; the first one was always something different everyday, and the second one was the group check-in with Mike, the OT of our floor.

For this first group, we were all given a piece of construction paper and told to put our names on it. This was led by Gwen and Drew, who told us that we would have to pass our paper clockwise and write something nice about the other person until we ended up with our paper again. We all gave Drew and Gwen poker-faces, as if to say, '_You really expect fifteen to seventeen year olds to do this without feeling like first-graders?_' They just shrugged and handed out pens, eyeing everyone with either a red or yellow bracelet pointedly—which just earned them five heated glares and scowls.

We passed the papers around until finally the activity was over. We weren't required to share what was on the paper out loud, but we were told to read it, which I was grateful for—especially because it boosted my self-esteem slightly. Of course they were all horribly cliché because really no one put effort into this assignment, but it was still nice to read all of the words on my paper.

This group finally was over, and the nine of us walked over to group check-in. Of course, all of days were pretty horrible because, I mean, did anyone really expect anything different?

The scores were: _Me: 3, Percy: 3, Thalia: 5, Nico: 3, Leo: 7, Frank: 4, Piper: 6, Jason: 5, _and _Hazel: 7_, which surprised everyone considering that it was her first day.

Mike dismissed us, then reminded us that it was time to go to the common room for our every-other-day health check-up and routine. Which meant checking our temperature, blood pressure, taking a urine sample (gross; and how would any of us be pregnant and/or taking drugs from the comforting walls of a nut house?), and—most dreadful of all for Thalia and me—weighing.

It went okay, I guess.

My jaw was locked and my eyes turned steely cold when I stepped on the scale. I had earned half a pound, much to my dismay, and I felt the overwhelming urge to cut when I found that out. Remembering what I heard from Nico and Jason, I started clawing at my arms, which earned me time in a solitary room by myself and even more irremovable gauze taped onto my wrist, straight up to my elbows.

I heard Thalia's mouth as soon as she stepped on the scale, and I can honestly understand why her goal for the day was not to swear at the staff. Of course she didn't attain her goal, but I found out that she has some _extremely _colorful language, to say the least. Whether her weight improved or not, I had no idea. Either way, I know that both me and her had a trip to Chiron in our near future, potentially before dinner too.

Almost as if the universe sensed my thoughts, Drew came in the room and told me to go to Chiron immediately. I silently cursed and hauled myself up, going down the halls to the familiar brown chestnut-wood door.

After fifteen minutes of failed attempt to get me to 'open-up' or whatever, Chiron thought it best to do cognitive behavioral therapy on me instead. That just meant that I would have to be thinking about what I do and why I do it.

I was set to lie down on the bed-like thing in the office. And Chiron sat in a chair to my right.

"Okay Annabeth, clear your mind completely. Or at least try." I did as he said, then he continued.

"Now, imagine two roads with doors on the end of each of them. One is on a beautiful trail, it contains all of your happy memories. The other is dark, maybe terrifying, even. It contains all of the bad things that have ever happened to you. Walk right through that door."

My dream self saw the two paths, and itched to go down the pretty one, but I turned, swallowed, and walked towards the dark one. I opened it and hesitantly stepped inside.

"Think back to the first time you started cutting. Remember every detail, remember every feeling and thought."

I did remember. There was no easy way to forget those types of things.

_I was in eighth grade, only thirteen, I had just faced so many bullies and today had seemed too over-whelming. I had locked myself in my room and the tears started to flow continuously. I scanned my room, my grey orbs landing on a pencil sharpener on my desk. I knew I shouldn't have been thinking like this, but I was drawn towards it. I somehow unscrewed the blades and took the biggest one in my hand, twirling it around in thought for a few moments._

_On impulse, I had jarred the end of it onto my wrist, and made a long, jagged cut on my flesh. Blood immediately rushed out of the wound and cascaded down my arm. The blood was mesmerizing, and so was the pain. I did it once, twice more, until I didn't even realize what I was doing. All I knew was that the pain I felt inside was being turned into pain I felt on the outside, and I was fine with that. The slicing kept going, until there were exactly twenty-five cuts on each wrist, my arms a tidal pool of blood. I was breathing heavily, and I remember having to pour almost half a bottle of peroxide onto my arms to get the bleeding to finally stop._

I opened my eyes suddenly and bolted upright, startling Chiron in the process.

"I remember," I whispered, and told him the entire story, just as I remembered it. He scrawled notes quickly onto his notepad, listening intently. When my story was over, he told me to repeat the same exercise, except remembering the first time that I had made myself throw up.

Again, I did remember.

_Ninth grade. Fourteen years old. It was a Tuesday evening, and I was watching the Victoria's Secret fashion show with my mother. She usually didn't watch these things nor approve of my watching them, but tonight I somehow convinced her. Each girl walked out, making my self-esteem dip even lower than it already was. I wanted to be each girl walking down the runway, but I couldn't be. I had just finished dinner, not making my situation any better. I eyed the bathroom, only about fifty feet away, and told my mother that I would be right back. _

_I locked the bathroom door. Hunched over the toilet, I stuck my finger straight down my throat. I started retching, and soon there was nothing left inside to regurgitate. I made a vow to myself that day: I would do _**_anything_**_ it takes to be that pretty, even if it killed me._

Again, I told Chiron exactly what I remembered, and he listened attentively. He then dismissed me and told me how proud he was of my progress today.

I walked out of the door, and was met with a scowling Thalia. She muttered a half-hearted, "hey" under her breath and then marched right into the office, slamming the door to emphasize the point that she didn't want to be there.

I looked up at the clock, surprised that I had spent over an hour in my session with Chiron. Going back to the common room, I was greeted by Drew with my Celexa in a little plastic cup with some water in another. I reluctantly took the medication, but didn't complain out loud.

Once again, I was allowed to call my parents. I started crying while on the line, but I felt much better when I hung up.

I barely ate that night, but the nurses didn't pester me too much. I was just ready for this day to be over.

**A/N: If any of you read "Beauty from Pain", you'll know why I didn't update. Shoutout to depression and self-harm for ruining my life. But yeah, sorry it's not my best, just barely broke six pages. Today sucked too. My basketball coach promised us that we would get out of conditioning for two days if everyone on our team made at least one basket during today's game. Of course I was literally the only one out of fourteen people that didn't make the stupid shot. So now I have thirteen other girls mad at me, along with all the other people giving me trouble in school. I love my life (sarcasm to the max). Review, pretty please? I'll send you warm baskets of joy and love. Thanks for reading, as always. I stayed up until 1 AM writing this for you guys. If that's not love, what is?**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait…still really depressed and yeah, going through stuff. I'm feeling low right now so this story is not going where I ended up wanting to for this chapter. So I'm just going to type the hell out of my laptop. Over a month. Over a whole. Freaking. Month. I was on spring break for three weeks but I literally just don't have deny energy. I'm sorry, really. And I apologize in advance for this chapter. By the way, my story, my rules. Thalia and Jason aren't related.**

**Chapter 5**

Four weeks.

I've been at Half-Blood Hill for four weeks.

And I doubt that I've gotten better at all. My depression rapidly worsened and I've had _ten_ panic attacks in just four weeks.

I've been here long enough to see Hazel come here before me and leave before me. I've been here to see even Piper leave, and she didn't stop stealing people's cra—things. Well technically she went to a CBAT, where she was allowed to stay at home during the night, but still. Her life wasn't spent rotting in Half-Blood Hill.

But it was like only Leo has been improving since I've been here. I guess it was because of the lack of fire here, though. Nico was still the same, Jason seemed even jumpier since Piper left (despite their exchanging phone calls everyday), Frank still had his flashbacks (maybe not as violent, but still as frequent…at least he talked to Hazel everyday). Percy took his meds whenever he felt like doing so, which was probably only two times in the past few weeks. But when he didn't, those attacks were horrible. It seemed as though there were more imaginary people and more voices. If you ask me, Thalia wasn't getting any better or any worse. One night she was in a really pissy mood and decided that she didn't want to eat; as soon as she was done with what was on her plate, she brought it up right into a nearby trashcan.

Needless to say, I think we were all staying here—exempting Leo—for the time being.

I was literally a mess. I wasn't breathing, I wasn't living. I was just struggling to gasp on air and I was just an empty shell deemed 'alive' because I had a pulse. I didn't sleep. When I did, it was only for maybe an hour or two. I spent most of the nights sitting upright in my bed and straight-up crying. Sure, I was wallowing in self-pity for some unknown reason, but my mindset was basically like, "screw everything" at this point.

So yeah, here's Half-Blood Hill four weeks later.

And it sucks.

In just four weeks I went from 68 pounds to 100 pounds. I honestly don't even know how it was possible to gain that much weight in four weeks.

I, along with every other patient here, started seeing Chiron at least once every single day. I guess even the staff can pick up on the lack of progress. I didn't know about anyone else, but I just didn't have the will to do anything but wake up and shower anymore. Whenever I was brought into the office, I'd just stare blankly at the wall. Sometimes I would cry, but I hadn't said anything to Chiron since the first time we tried CBT. My eyes just glazed over, lost focus, and I would become nothing. He scribbled like crazy onto his notepad, although I don't think that there was much to say about my condition.

I was disgusting. I hated myself. Everyday I went to the nurses station and got my stupid arms wrapped up in gauze. Not only to my elbows anymore, no. Despite the shirts I wore to at least cover up to my elbows, the doctors somehow saw it and immediately decided to tape up to my shoulders.

Since everything I had seemed to be taken away from me, I starting hurting myself in the one way I knew they couldn't take from me—my hair. Not in clumps, but maybe yanking five to ten strands out at a time. There was something oddly satisfying about seeing my blonde strands falling to the floor. I knew this was just adding on to the number of days I had to spend here, but everyone can tell that I just gave up on living.

The other patients here heard less and less from me. My social anxiety had spiked for some unknown reason, and I had to call my parents at about three every morning due to my separation anxiety. Celexa was forced down my throat without the fight that I used to silently put up.

Currently, I was sitting in the common room (because I spent too much time in my room and away from human contact). I had held a two minute conversation—by choice, might I add—with everyone except Frank. Frank and I had spoken for a bit longer than that; I felt close to him, seeing as he was the first person to speak to me when I got here.

I looked up from the couch I was sitting at and saw Percy coming from the bathroom, obviously having had just taken a shower since his hair was wet. He looked shocked to see me out of my room, and starting walking towards me. I mentally prepared myself for this conversation.

"Hi," he said, all the way across the couch.

"Hey." Short and curt.

There was an awkward pause, neither of us knowing what to say. I ran my fingers over the giant scar from the pen, but I will admit that the wound was healing faster than anyone was expecting.

"I missed you," he said. I looked up and smiled a bit. "I guess we're all going downhill, huh?" The red bracelet was being swung around his wrist, making me go to my yellow one and do the same thing.

I nodded and was about to tell him I missed him too, hell I think I missed him more than he missed me, but then the administrator for the ward (I could never remember his name) came onto the unit, calling everyone to the common room for a 'very important announcement'.

Once everyone was settled, he started speaking. Apparently the board had been going over some ways to help move our progress along, blah blah blah, the health of the patients on this ward was decreasing, blah blah blah, and now the wards were allowed visitors.

Wait…we were allowed visitors now?! As in my mother and father could come to the unit? As in I can finally have a bit of comfort back into my life?

Looking around, I say everyone's eyes light up at the news. We didn't even hear the rest of the announcement. When the administrator left, we were all allowed a phone call. Of course our parents had also recently heard the news, but it was spirit-lifting. My parents told me they were on their way here, approximately twenty-five minutes away.

When I returned to the common room, everyone looked genuinely better. Not happy, but better than before. Not long after, parents starting arriving. A Latina woman walked onto the unit with a man that looked to be a mechanic. They took Leo immediately. A blonde woman with shockingly blue eyes came onto the floor with a man who had gray hair and the same color eyes, obviously for Jason. Next was another blonde, but her eyes were more of the color of Thalia's, which was proven true when I saw her get up to embrace the woman. Two couples and two small families walked in next, all at the same time. One was an Italian couple: the woman with curly hair, both of them with nice olive skin. _Nico._ A petite Asian, a muscular man, and a girl with stringy brown hair, who was quite toned, might I add. _Definitely Frank._ Next family was a woman with blue eyes and brown hair, but the man and the college-aged guy was the splitting image of Percy, it was hard to believe that they weren't related if someone told me that. Last, but not least in the slightest way, were my parents.

I smiled, _actually_ smiled for the first time in a month, and ran straight into their arms. It was amazing to finally be able to inhale the scent of worn books and cologne again. We made it to a conference room, and they sat down with me.

We could finally speak to each other face to face again.

**A/N: Yup. Sucky chapter to the max. Really, I apologize big time. But I thought that I shouldn't make it ALL depressing just because I'M depressed. I like making people happy and I'm honestly sorry if this chapter didn't cut it. It's literally only three pages. I don't promise an update though, I'm still struggling to wake up everyday. But until I do, can you guys do something for me? I'm not asking for reviews, follows, or favorites (although all of the above are welcome), I want you guys to do something that makes you happy. Something that puts a smile on your face because I want you guys to be happy…you deserve all the happiness in the world. I know what it's like to feel like utter crap and I don't want you guys to feel like that. So even if you can't have a good day, have A day. Realize you're alive and that I love you. Until next time, hopefully.**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: You guys…thank you so much for the reviews and the PM's. They were so kind I started crying LITERALLY. Guys, I'm still at the same point, but I can finally think of something to write again. **

**(By the way, to the really rude guest: yes I understand I don't have the worst problems in the world but please do not speak about how YOU have never cut. I have been emotionally, mentally, and sexually abused, but thank God it was by someone outside of my family. I'm sorry for what you went through, but don't EVER compare your life to the lives of others and say that because YOU aren't as sad as I am, I shouldn't be depressed. And my anxiety isn't choice. I wish it really was though. You DID, in fact, sound like an ass in your review. Obviously I'm trying to get through this if I'm willing to get so much help.) **

**Apparently my school thought that I was mentally unstable, so I spent the entirety of the last week on medical leave. I guess it did help, though. I'm not better in the slightest, but I at least got to sit back and just breathe without worrying about failing everything.**

**Chapter 6**

I smiled, _actually_ smiled for the first time in a month, and ran straight into their arms. It was amazing to finally be able to inhale the scent of worn books and cologne again. We made it to a conference room, and they sat down with me.

We could finally speak to each other face to face again.

I honestly was pretty sure that I was glowing, and my smile was so big that it began to hurt my face. I was pretty sure my parents' faces mirrored mine. My father was finally the first to break the silence.

"We've missed you." My mother immediately replied after, eyes misty.

"We love you so much and we're so sorry that you're here. We just need you to get better, okay?" My smile started to falter. "That's all we wanted. But they call every day and say that you don't respond to any type of treatment, you're like a robot Annabeth. They said there was progress at first, you had friends, although you still kept your distance. And then all of a sudden you start going downhill. I don't know what happened, and it seems that the staff doesn't know either. All we wanted was to make you happy." During her small speech, the tears began to roll down both her and my cheeks. She had removed the gauze on my arm and saw all of the old cuts that I had made before coming here but repeatedly re-opened, and where I dug my nails into my flesh, leaving slightly repulsive and deep gashes, from my wrist to my shoulder. "I'm sorry if we ever failed as parents. But we love you so, so much. Don't _ever_ forget that."

I just sat there gaping, my mouth opening and closing. I didn't understand how they could possibly believe that they failed _me_. If anything, _I_ failed _them_. My parents were almost perfect, but yet they got stuck with an anti-social, freakish, horribly awkward, self-pitying, poor excuse of a human being. Then all of a sudden, I started bawling my eyes out, sobbing horribly and apologizing to my parents over and over. I didn't think that more than "I'm sorry" could cover everything.

I was sorry for crying in front of them.

I was sorry for being here.

I was sorry for being weighed in the emergency room.

I was sorry for them seeing the scars that morning.

I was sorry for not having friends.

I was sorry for always being so anxious.

I was sorry for never having any friends.

I was sorry for being depressed.

I was sorry for making them deal with me.

I was sorry for the fact that they loved me so much.

I was sorry for being such a burden to them.

I was sorry for being born.

I voiced all of these apologies out loud, and my parents stared at me in shock. _Did they not think I was sorry enough to apologize?_ All of a sudden, I felt my father's firm hold on my shoulders.

"Annabeth Minerva Chase, don't you _ever_ dare apologize for anything that ridiculous again, do you hear me? If we didn't want or love you, do you think we'd still be raising you? Now I want you to sit back, smile your brilliant smile, and tell us all about the latest book you've been reading."

I did as he said, smiled, and began on a rant about my latest book, "Return to Ghana", until visiting time was up.

By the time I returned to the common room, it was safe to say that everyone looked happier, waving to their parents as they boarded the elevator. The next visiting time would be in two weeks, which I was now looking forward to.

I walked over to Percy, he was smiling, though he seemed a little sad. I wanted to pick up our conversation from earlier and I also wanted to find out what was wrong with him.

Sitting maybe five feet away from him, I asked what was wrong. Apparently while his family was here, one of his friends wanted him to choke his brother. Percy didn't like that, and started shouting at his friend right there in the conference room.

As it turned out, Percy did in fact feel bad for causing his parents and his brother so much pain. I tried assuring him that it was okay, but then felt like a total hypocrite.

He got quiet for a moment, then looked at me and asked, "Can I tell you something? But it's super secret though." I nodded, then let him continue. "Last week, I talked to Chiron during our session. I told him that I was depressed that day and I asked some questions about my meds. My friends thought that I was planning on taking them again, so they got really mad. My best friend is Max, and I usually listen to what he says no matter what. But he can also be _horrible_ and _mean_. He almost choked me to death."

I cocked my head, but didn't tell him that there was no way that 'Max' could've choked him. I remembered once reading that people with schizophrenia actually harm themselves when they believe that their hallucinations are doing it, or they just feel the pain from the hallucinations without actually touching themselves. When examining Percy's neck, I decided that it was the first option, since there were fingerprint-shaped bruises all over his next.

I wanted to comfort him somehow, so I tried reaching for his hand. He recoiled it immediately—not as if he didn't want me touching him, but as if someone had slapped him. He growled "go to hell" at the air, then looked at me with fear that seemed older than time itself.

He said: "Max is going to _kill_ me. Soon."

**A/N: Again, thanks guys. I love you all. Don't know when next chapter will be out, as usual. Sorry it was so short, just wanted something out.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**A/N: Okay…um, it's been a while. Like a LONG while. But I'm back, so that's good…right? My heart pooped its pants from all the care you guys showed. I know I can't leave because of you guys and my family. So for now, I still have hope. A slight silver of hope it may be, but it's still there. **

**Guys, it was September 2nd a few days ago, so you know what that means? SEPTEMBER 2ND, 2015! IT WAS MY 15TH BIRTHDAY, GUYS! Also, I started school today. I guess sophomore year is off to an okay-ish start.**

**Anyways, new chapter! Finally, right? *Brad Pitt voice from Troy* ONWARDS!**

It seemed as though in the next two weeks, Percy put the 'paranoid' in 'paranoid schizophrenia'. He was always flinching, isolating himself, and whenever he walked, he always looked around at his surroundings. Not in a curious manner, but as if he expected a surprise attack. It seemed as though 'Max' _was_ really out to get him, and it was taking a toll on him. He seemed to eat less—like _way_ less, more like less than a meal a day. From the dark circles under his eyes, I could tell that his sleep wasn't so great either. We even seemed to talk less also. Nowadays, Percy's isolation seemed like an entirely different issue on its own that the hospital needed to tackle. He tried speaking with me, but then would stop mid-sentence to randomly either start screaming at his hallucinations or getting 'attacked' by them. Or there were times that you could see that he was too mentally drained to even try to start a conversation with anyone. He even was so paranoid that he told his family to stop visiting him so that _Max_ wouldn't hurt him.

Why was I so worried? It was a question I asked myself over and over and over again. I had fooled myself into believing that it was simply because I cared about his mental state and felt sorry that he had to go through such a horrible disorder. But in all reality, I would say that I _liked_ Percy. As in, _seriously_ liked him.

I loved the way his hair seemed to always be wind-swept, even though we were always inside. His smile was like watching the sun give birth to a billion other suns (it makes sense in my head). His hands were like any other boys hands, they looked rough and calloused. However, they felt extremely soft, especially when he wrapped them around me in a tight embrace. (Wow, and I'm seriously starting to sound like a love-struck pre-teen.) And his eyes, my God his _eyes_. Those were the things I admired the most about him. Most times, they were a beautiful sea-green, but they never stayed the same shade. When he was happy, the best times spent with him, his eyes shone brightly and there seemed to be little gold flecks swimming around in them. When he was utterly and adorably confused, those were the most hilarious times with him, his eyes were a little darker, like the ocean at high tide. (I may also add that his eyebrows scrunched up together and he looked utterly adorable, but that's besides the point.) When he was angry, the scariest times to be with him, his eyes looked like he was ready for war, and intended on bloodshed. His eyes were a dangerous dark green, like when a thunder storm erupted over the ocean. And I kid you not, there were gold flecks in his eyes that exactly resembled lightning. Then when he was taken over by schizophrenia, the worst times with him, he was utterly terrified. His eyes looked dull and haunted, and they were a forest green instead of a sea green. (Did I honestly just describe a boy's eyes in full detail? Get it together, Annabeth.)

However, this was the first crush I've ever had in my entire life. And I pretty much just found it _utterly_ hilarious how the universe curses me. My first crush didn't happen when I was five years old and in kindergarten, crushing on the best kick ball player. Nope, not at all. My first crush happened when I was sixteen years old and in a mental institution, on a boy who had paranoid _and_ general schizophrenia. Yup, sounds about right.

Well since I seemed all concerned about Percy's issues, I guess I should also address everyone else's and mine.

Who else was here? Oh, right. Thalia, Nico, Leo, Frank, and Jason.

Thalia was…well Thalia, I guess. She gained some weight of her own free will, slowly but surely, although she relapsed a lot and threw up from time to time. Almost seven weeks in this place has done her some good after all. She even helped me a lot with one of my issues, but I'll explain that later.

Nico was fine too. He was still depressed as hell, but thanks to Thalia, he stopped self-harming (did I ever mention that those two were together now?). His birthday was last week, and since he couldn't have a sweet sixteen like any other normal teenager, his parents just brought a huge half sheet cake for everyone in the ward. He seemed pretty content, though. He was also extremely quiet still, but he at least didn't stay cooped up in his room 24/7. Everyone was pleased to see some improvement due to the fact that he's been here for almost a year and a half.

And then there was Leo. If you ask me, there was nothing really wrong with him in the first place concerning his fire problem. He was just obsessed with setting fires a lot—and _that_ classified as a mental disorder? I mean, all they really had to do was take away his access to anything flammable. But anyways, he was fine for the most part with the pyromaniac thing. He _did_ get access to matches sometimes because let's be honest: whenever Silena or Drew or Gwen are gone, there were pure _idiots_ put on as on-duty nurses. I think the real problem with him is his ADHD, which was still bat-flipping crazy, but they finally found a med that'll hopefully work for him.

Frank was neither better nor worse. Same flashbacks, same rage episodes, same security guards ending up with black eyes, same on-call doctors ending up with desks sailing at their heads. But he was still lovable and kind. I guess all I could do was hope and pray for him.

Jason seemed to be doing really well, and everyone was really happy for him. Apparently Chiron said that if he was still doing the way he was, he could leave within four weeks. Of course everyone wanted to leave, but we were still happy that he was finally getting better.

Then there was me. What were my bag of issues again? Oh, yeah. MDD, chronic depression, highly suicidal, anorexia and bulimia, extreme self-harm, anxiety disorder, panic disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, separation anxiety disorder, and social anxiety disorder. Let's address each of them at a time, right? My MDD and "chronic" depression was still basically the same (in other words, I was depressed as hell, as always). I wasn't suicidal anymore, which I guess is always a good thing, especially to my parents. I think I got past the bulimia, but the anorexia needs some work (proud to say that I have gained some weight, though!). I guess I didn't self-harm anymore, mainly due to the fact that I was tired of having to tear medical tape off of my arms whenever I wanted to use the shower. Of course anxiety disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, and separation anxiety disorder were still there, but I no longer had panic disorder. Thalia was the one to actually "cure" my social anxiety. She's really social, and was my closest friend here besides Percy and Frank (more like the only one here classified as "normal"), so of course I was forced to face people if I wanted to talk to her. It all paid off though, and although I wasn't completely cured of that problem, it got a lot better.

Actually, in fact, I was sitting in the general area of the ward.

Then suddenly, the doors to the ward opened, and in came a shy girl with black hair that had some streaks dyed white in it. She looked pretty awkward, and kept cowering behind a man who I could only assume was her father.

Obviously a new girl. This would be interesting.

**A/N: Yup… only 1,451 words. Well it's something at least. Like always, no idea when an update will come, but it will.**


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Obviously a new girl. This would be interesting. I put down my copy of _A Wrinkle In Time_ (I totally do not recommend reading this book at all, I'm only finishing it because I hate starting a book and just leaving it) and saw Silena go to greet them, and then they went into the same room that I went into when I first arrived.

I waited to see if they would come out any time soon, but they didn't. It took a whole _half an hour_ for them to finally come outside of the room, and I saw this new girl getting the same tour of the ward that I got from Silena on my first day here. Then, _finally_, they got to the common room. And for once in my life, I wasn't scared to have another human being approach me. My heart was beating completely normally (or I fought down the small panic attack building inside of me and pretended that it wasn't there, same difference).

But this new girl sure as hell looked scared out of her mind.

Silena finally seemed to notice me in my little bubble, and maybe she noticed Nico too (he had come out here a little while ago to watch the tv), but she didn't say anything, probably because he was quiet and distant anyways. Anyways, Silena smiled at me and walked over with the new addition to the ward.

"Hi Annabeth, this is Katie. She's seventeen, like yourself. She has anthropophobia, and she cuts," Silena said, all the while this 'Katie' girl tried not to look at either me nor Silena directly. "And now I need to talk to you."

Katie made some type of strange, panicked, grunting noise when Silena let go of her and attempted to leave, but I heard Silena whisper an "it's okay, I'll be back" in Katie's ear, although Katie's panicked look never left her face, then she ushered me into the hallway.

Confused, I allowed Silena to bring me out of the common room and into the hallway. She took a deep breath, and said, "Okay Annabeth, here's the thing. We want Katie to get help as quickly as she possibly can, because I'm pretty sure you can imagine how hard it is to function everyday normally when you're _afraid of people_." I nodded my head slowly, wondering what any of this had to do with me. She continued. "So, since you had the problem with social anxiety, we thought you might be a good influence on her." Again, I was confused, and gave her a pointed look. She took a deep breath.

"Katie's going to be your new roommate."

I think my jaw could've literally dropped to the floor, and I kind of just stared for Silena for who-knows-how-long. That is, until she asked me to show Katie our room.

So of course I took Katie to _our_ room.

To be honest, I was having an inner-conflict with myself. On one hand, I thought that I should stay alone in my room, but on the other hand, I felt kind of bad for Katie. Partially because I know sort of what it's like to not want to interact with others because of fear. Maybe also because mainly her condition is way worse than _anything_ I've ever experienced with social anxiety.

"So…" I tried starting a conversation. "Where are you from?"

Katie's answers were short and curt. "Upper side Manhattan."

"Oh wow, cool. I'm from here in the city."

"Yup."

And that about ended our conversation.

I tried asking her some more questions about herself, but she didn't quite feel like answering any of them, although I didn't quite expect to her to answer them, anyways. I kind of just let her be after showing her where she should put her stuff, which bed was hers, and basically helping her figure out the rules here. When she finally turned to start putting her stuff away on a high shelf, I caught a glimpse of her left sleeve rolling down.

Man, was her arm _messed up_. I was almost mesmerized by it. Now I knew what everyone meant when they said that seeing cuts were triggering. Obviously all of my cuts healed and turned into scars in the approximate six weeks that I've been to Half-Blood Hill, but there were times where I just itched to have something sharp—even a paper clip, for God's sake—to tear myself open with and to just watch myself bleed. Katie's look less neat than mine, but potentially varying in depth. Mine were in a neat set of horizontal lines all over my body, all of them pretty deep. Katie looked as if her left wrist was the only part of her body that she attacked, and maybe with scissors instead of a razor or knife. Some of them were obviously surface scratches, some were pretty deep, and then there were four distinct ones that were so dee that they required stitches. Those were the ones that really got to me. I could _feel_ myself panicking, just practically dying to get a hold on something sharp. _Just one cut. All I needed was one cut, and that would be enough._

I felt my throat closing, my chest becoming tight, and my vision became clouded. I knew this feeling. I was going to have a panic attack, except not a normal one. This one would lead me on to the brink of hysteria. I turned and ran out the room in hopes to not be triggered anymore, even though I knew it was too late. I crumpled to the ground, just sobbing and gasping for air, even though I knew that if I calmed down, I'd be able to breathe just fine. My crying became increasingly louder, and I was pretty sure that I was clawing at my arms. I couldn't quite tell though, I couldn't see and didn't know if I was just imagining my nails ripping into my skin or if tiny droplets of blood were running out.

I heard footsteps coming in my direction, presumably a nurse. It was confirmed that my arms were indeed scratched due to the towel I felt being pressed onto them. All I could remember next was being held to someones chest while I sobbed and eventually blacked out.

**A/N: Definitely not my best. But I feel like crap, decided to write, and ¡voila!**

**~ScarredIncisions**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

How was this happening to me? After all of the hell I'm going through, God couldn't just say "alright Annabeth, enough"?

My crying was now lowered to a gentle sob, although I was breathing pretty heavily. It turned out that the chest I was leaning against was Selina's, and she was gently stroking my hair. When I finally stopped crying, I was led into the meditation room to calm down until Chiron came to meet with me. Silena left after a few minutes, I think to give someone their medication, and I was left with my thoughts. Which is never such a great thing.

I knew all of the progress I made was gone. I wanted to cut. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to starve. I wanted to die, most of all. If I could just get a hold of a gun, the fastest way to go. Or hell, even a plastic bag. No, all of that was too unrealistic. I just needed a razor. That was all I needed for right now.

Almost on cue, Chiron walked in at that moment. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the couch, not feeling like going through this ordeal.

I could feel his eyes on me, just staring and waiting for me to say something. But no, I wouldn't say a thing.

"Annabeth."

Silence.

"Annabeth, you must open your eyes."

I opened my eyes, but remained leaning against the couch. I heard Chiron sigh. But it wasn't out of despair, more like trying to come up with an idea. Finally, he spoke: "Annabeth, do you have a suicide letter written?"

I shook my head no, and then he spoke again: "Okay, so what I want you to do is write the letter right here, right now."

I was skeptical, but wrote the letter.

_To everyone I left behind that ever loved me:_

_Please read beginning to end._

_Obviously by the time you read this, I'll either be dead in the house, on my way to the hospital, in the morgue, or six feet under. And I'll definitely be dancing with the devil, I guess, since apparently suicide is the ultimate sin, since none of us can beg forgiveness in our graves, correct? Only God can give life, so who are we to take are own? That's like over-powering God, right? Perhaps God won't even try me, he might just send me to hell. Because let's be honest, my entire life was lived believing—no, knowing—that God stopped loving me a long time ago. A very long, long time ago. If God were to love me as everyone in my life has ever told me, why would he allow me to live like this? It wasn't as if one day I decided to ask God, "I think it would be fun to be depressed and suicidal. Can you make that happen?" As if I never tried. So quite obviously, everything I've ever heard about God my entire life is utter lies._

_In this letter, here are my last thoughts / consoling / whatever else I felt as though I needed to say. Maybe we should start with why I did it, I guess. So why did I do it? The answer is simple: why live in so much pain? I sat and realized that if I didn't kill myself, I would live like this forever. Do you actually understand that this pain is unbearable? I've spent so many showers crying and sobbing until I was out of breath. Those nights where you heard me repeatedly blowing my nose and assuming it was congestion was actually the result of my crying almost every single night. I've felt like this since as long as I could remember, up until this very day I woke up without a purpose; my life truly served no purpose. I was honestly worthless, and I died so. I genuinely hated myself, genuinely and utterly hated myself with a fiery passion in my soul. Of course I loathed my outward appearance, but it didn't drive me to hate myself. I hated who I was. I was ashamed of who I was. There was nothing I loved about myself. I was an annoying, selfish, greedy, bitter, angry little specimen._

_Now here are some things I would like to leave to the close adults in my life (meaning parents and grandmothers and grandfather). I know that throughout my entire life you showered me with nothing but love, even when I did everything wrong. I know your intentions were always pure, and please don't blame yourself for this. To be honest, we all knew this day was coming and you did nothing to influence it._

_I don't think sorry is really anything I can tell anyone in this letter. I know you all loved me, but what you never understood was that there was something always telling me you didn't, which was stupid, of course. But I've battled my demons (no, not religious demons; I'm trying to be poetic) for this long, and I finally let them go. I'm finally at peace. So yeah, I'm probably burning in the fiery furnaces of hell, but it's okay. Don't cry over me._

_Now to close this letter, to anyone that's ever known and loved me, please miss me, but let me go. Trust me, a year from now, I'll be just a distant memory. I'm really not something to be dwelled on for too much time. Move on with your lives that so clearly proved to have three times the worth of mine. Find your joy. And lastly, do what I wish I could've done myself fully. Love God, love yourself, and love others. I love all of you, and I wish you all nothing but joy and happiness so long as you shall live._

_With my heart,_

_Annabeth Chase_

That was the letter, and throughout writing it, I was bawling my eyes out, _hard_. I wanted to say more, I wanted to reveal how much I was hurting and why I did it and how sorry I was and how much I love my parents. I handed the letter to Chiron, and he read it from beginning to end, I think more than once.

He looked up at me, tears still running down my cheeks and eyes puffy, and asked, "What else?"

I finally broke, and just started talking more than I have ever talked in my entire life.

"You know what's wrong? Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all is wrong. And that's what's wrong. I have absolutely no _reason_ to be like this, yet I'm a mess. Look at me! I'm tired and full of scars and just broken down. I hate food with a bloody passion and I think about being _zero_ pounds; yes, it's illogical, but I _want_ it. I want it more than anything I've ever wanted. And you know what? I think about death all the time. It doesn't scare me, it comforts me. And you know what? I'm _scared_ that these thoughts don't scare me. I'm so done with everything. As soon as I get out of here I'll do it. I'll just kill myself and leave this stupid place and never have to worry about anything anymore, and I wouldn't be sad, either. And I—I…"

I was heavily sobbing, unable to continue with my mini-rant. The session was soon over, and I was once again returned to my room. Although it was still pretty early in the day, I just went into bed, neglecting the fact that I 'needed' to eat and gain weight or go to therapy or whatever they thought would fix me.

So that's how I spent that day, and even the day after. Picking my skin off, peeling it off slowly, and spending restless nights crying. I ignored the nurses, I didn't eat, I didn't move, I didn't take my medication.

I was a shell of a person, just barely surviving.

**A/N: That awkward moment when the suicide letter came from a chunk of your own…**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Apparently, blurting out the fact that "I'll kill myself as soon as I get out of here" is not a great way to convince Chiron to discharge you. I couldn't blame him though, of course I couldn't. As much as I wanted to die, I felt obligated, in a way, to stay alive.

My parents.

My parents were pure, always putting my needs in front of theirs. They've even dealt with me being at Half-Blood Hill for three months. I even asked to reject their calls just because I didn't want them to hear the brokenness in my voice. They've visited only once since my freak out, and it was because I _asked_ them not to come see me. That means four weeks without seeing me. They shouldn't have to deal with me, and I actually pitied them for having to. If I died, I'd be doing them the ultimate disservice. Not only would I be leaving a cowardice impression on the world, I'd also be killing my parents' spirit. They were perfect, yet got stuck with me. And to top it all off, I'm an only child, so it's not like they have another kid to love if I died (even though, to the day before I was admitted here, I was begging for just _one_ brother or sister). They loved me so much, and of course I loved them more, but just dying would be like putting a rusty nail into their windpipe. I've been trying to avoid the urge to commit suicide for so long now, solely because of them, but now the urge is beginning to win and take over my life. It was beginning to consume me.

And that is what is scaring me.

I'm only seventeen. I shouldn't want to die. I should want to be able to look forward to finishing junior year and then going on to senior year, then even college. _Hell_, I've been stuck on the thought of dying for so long that I literally haven't thought of any colleges to apply to. Yeah I took the SAT already, but what the hell was the point if I was either, a) dead, or b) not even considering college. I even want to think of what I want to accomplish outside of the working world. Do I want to climb Mount Everest? Do I want to sail the Caribbean? Who knows. If I died, I surely wouldn't.

But then what if all life brought me was disappointment? Like what if I ended up dying alone? What if my parents were taken away from me too early? Or what if I ended up failing every single thing I've ever tried? These were the things that kept pulling me further and further below the surface.

I was currently in the lounge area, 'eating' the lunch in front of me. Chicken and pasta, slathered in Alfredo sauce. Usually I would enjoy this and dive right in, but not this time. All I saw were calories, fat, and ugliness. Coupled together with all these thoughts, I started gasping for breath. Great, only my nine millionth panic this week.

I suddenly pushed my chair out, alerting Katie sitting to my right (who, thank God, was making some progress; she sat next to me willingly; although that had to do with the fact that Thalia and Frank went home so I was alone more often and thus approachable). Chiron told me this was okay. I could just get up and leave, walk out when everything was becoming too much for me to handle. No one would judge me, no one would call me back. Okay, if I didn't eat maybe someone might follow me with the food and try to get me to swallow it, but I was hoping for the best.

I sat outside of my room, right on the window ledge, looking out of the window. Or at least what I could see, considering the bars and bulletproof glass in my way. I wasn't particularly looking at anything, just trying to breathe properly and get it together. I definitely wasn't doing worse; Chiron said I was making progress now. Since I wrote my letter, I stopped picking myself and of course thoughts of suicide were still there, along with depression, but it seemed like I could still read without thinking of dying, which I couldn't do six weeks ago. I had a long way to go, sure, but I was content where I was at the moment.

I concluded that maybe a nap would be my best option at the moment, but when I walked back into my room to get ready for bed, Katie walked in. Surprisingly, she looked like she wanted to talk, so of course I sat down on my bed, prepared to listen to what she has to say.

"Hi," she was so soft-spoken, I had to strain to hear her.

"Hi? Katie, what's wrong?" Even though my life was pretty bad, Katie and I started to really click and I always tried to find time to listen to her if she needed it. She even started improving—well, talking to people a bit more, even if all she said was 'hi'.

Apparently I was wrong, because she said, "Nothing. Well, something. But not me. It's not my problem. Wait no, I didn't mean that. Oh gosh. I meant you. Not a bad 'you', but…yeah…" And then looked down.

I giggled but told her to go on.

"I meant you should call your parents. Tell them to come visit right now. I mean yeah I only have my dad and our problems are different, but like…call. I don't know, it can surprise you, I guess. Maybe make you feel better and you could get out faster?"

I couldn't really react, I was just there gaping like a fish. My mouth was opening and closing, but no words were coming out. Not only was I astounded at the fact that Katie actually spoke so much, but I was also blown away by the wisdom she totally just dropped on me. I nodded my head as thanks, and she smiled as I got up to go ask for a phone.

Drew was on duty today, so I walked over to her and asked for a phone. Obviously the entire staffing committee was aware of my current predicament, so I think that was the fastest that anyone has ever received the phone. Anyways, I took it and braced myself for the conversation. The first three rings were excruciating, but finally they picked up on the fourth ring.

**Chase Residence, good afternoon.**

_Mom?_

**Oh my goodness! Annabeth! Frederick come here, she's on the phone!**

_Mom, calm down a bit?_

**Right, sorry. Sorry. Oh my gosh, I'm glad you called. So what happened?**

_Um…well…I was wondering…if you and dad…would come see me? Like as soon as possible? It's okay if you can't come now, I just…_

**Of course! Frederick! Hurry up with work, we're going to see Annabeth…what? Oh okay. Annabeth? We'll be there in perhaps three hours? Is that okay?**

_Of course mom, I love you._

**I love you too, hun.**

Now I was feeling a lot better. I went to recreational time with a lighter feeling in my step, suddenly overtaken with joy. It would all be okay, my parents would be here soon. I walked in and sat in between Percy, and he looked curios because of my newfound happiness.

I explained that my parents were coming, and they looked genuinely happy for me. I was also happy for him. I realized that in the time since my freak out, we haven't spoken. He updated me on his life, which seemed to be looking up. Max was gone, which was 'so freaking awesome that he shat himself in excitement the day he woke up and realized that he only had to deal with the voices now and it was all thanks to me because I was the one who convinced him to take his medication and oh gosh now he was rambling but anyways he was happy that my parents were coming to see me and oh I see my parents every Saturday and he's so much calmer now and his brother comes to see him every other week because of university but he always makes it anyways and is just so great and everything is looking up and hopefully he could leave in like three months or so because how awesome would that be'.

I kid you not, he said all of that in one breath. He smiled the most amazing smile, and it was great to see how much he was actually improving. His hair was of course still messy, but his eyes looked so much less haunted. They actually…twinkled. All I could see were his sea green orbs swimming in happiness, and…love? While he was looking at me? But…

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" I was confused. Yeah, I liked him, but surely he couldn't like me.

He threw his head back, and laughed (more like angels danced on his vocal chords while Jesus had an orgasm, but that's besides the point).

"I like you, you like me. Simple." My eyes widened comically, to which he looked confused. "Do people in the real world not point out observations, or…? Whatever, screw it." And with that, I had my first kiss.

It was great, although I had nothing to compare it to. His lips were soft and the kiss was so hesitant it was kind of hilarious. Of course neither of us wanted to get caught so the kiss was maybe like three seconds. He pulled away and smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back.

That's when my parents walked in, and I bit my lip and walked away.

Immediately, time froze when I saw my parents. I ran into their arms and did all but jump onto them. I cried, actually cried. It was the best reunion ever, and to even make it better, they brought me cookies from Au Bon Pain (macadamia nut, which is definitely the best cookie known to mankind). We chatted about everything, including my treatment and feelings, which I couldn't find myself doing before. This is how much I missed them.

That's when the greatest bombshell of my life dropped on me. My parents smiled, told me they granted my last 10 birthday wishes, and at my confused face, my mom announced she was pregnant. The shit-eating grin that I wore was definitely not enough to express my happiness. I concluded that today was not only the best day I've had in months, but in years.

Things were starting to look up from that day onwards.

**A/N: Alas, this story is reaching its end. Didn't go as I planned, but I felt like I needed to end it. One or two more chapters headed your way.**


End file.
